


Holliday

by NebraskaWildfire



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen, Pre-Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 01:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebraskaWildfire/pseuds/NebraskaWildfire
Summary: The boys run into an old acquaintance and question eternity.





	Holliday

It was west of Denver that they ran into Doc Holliday for the third and last time.

Through some strategic card-playing Heyes and the Kid had accumulated almost enough money for the buy-in to a poker tournament to be held at the lavish Hotel Colorado in Glenwood Springs. All they now needed was an actual loan from their dear friend Clementine Hale for the remainder. That had been much harder to acquire.

“Lend you money? My money?” Clem exclaimed, when they had met her for supper at the Brown Palace, one of the nights they were in Denver. “For a poker game?” She narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t you try this with Georgette?”

“Yes, we did,” Heyes nodded.

“But she didn’t give it to us, even though we helped her as we agreed,” the Kid continued.

“You do owe us, Clem,” Heyes continued. “For keeping your father out of prison.”

“Not two thousand dollars!” she exclaimed.

“But we’ll never again be this close to the buy-in,” the Kid pleaded.

“We’ll pay you back,” Heyes insisted. “With interest.”

“What happens if you lose it all?” Clementine queried.

“I won’t,” Heyes laughed, and favored her with one of his dimpled smiles.

“Promise me you’ll pay me back,” Clem insisted. “Even if you don’t win.”

“We promise,” the boys chimed in together.

“Oh, how can I refuse you both,” Clem smiled, and Heyes and Curry smiled back.

“Clem, if we knew it meant you were coming along, we might have found another way to raise the money.”

Hannibal Heyes, Kid Curry and Clementine Hale had checked into the luxurious Hotel Colorado on Pine Street, one of the main streets in Glenwood Springs. The hotel was surrounded by fountains of awe-inspiring heights. The lobby was sumptuous, full of burgundy velvet and mahogany. The suite in which they were staying reflected this richness.

In actuality though, it was Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Smith and their cousin, Mr. Thaddeus Jones, who had checked into this magnificent hotel, as Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry had yet to acquire their amnesty. Mr. Smith had suggested flipping a coin, to decide to whom Miss Clementine Hale was to appear married, so as to have no hard feelings.

“No, Heyes,” the Kid shook his head decisively. “It’s your turn.”

“Why now, Kid, it will only be for a few days,” Heyes cajoled. “Besides it’s a very different situation than the last time. We should flip a coin.”

“If you two argue about this again, treating me like I’m a bad penny, I’m going to start thinking I should have just stayed home.” Clementine did not look very happy.

“Well, now, Clem, I think that’s what we had suggested,” the Kid began.

“If you two think I’m going to give you two thousand dollars and not keep an eye on it then you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Clem, you know they don’t usually let spectators into this level of game,” Heyes admonished.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” Clementine replied with a determined smile. “But it won’t stop me from trying.”

It was that night at dinner that they ran into Doc Holliday again. Clem had insisted that they dress formally for dinner and he readily agreed, as it fit the persona Heyes wanted to present. They had just arrived at the maitre d’ station, when a commotion started.

“Mr. Holliday, certainly, you might want to return to your room to freshen up,” the maitre d’ started to explain. “Or perhaps even enjoy the relaxation of a meal in your room.”

“First, of all, my good man, it is Doctor Holliday, especially to you, and second, I do not want to eat in my room, so give me a table before I shoot up this fine establishment.” Doc swayed on his feet, but they were not certain if it was because of copious amounts of liquor having been consumed, the remnants of which wafted over to Clem and the boys, or if it could be attributed to what was the obvious decline in his health. Doc had always dressed as a bit of a dandy for the West. Heyes had attributed it to Holliday’s being raised back East. Now, however, it looked like he had slept in his clothes.

It had been about a year since the boys had seen Doc in Ashford. Heyes was shocked at the difference. Before Holliday had been coughing, but he had still appeared fairly healthy. Now he looked skeletal. Before he thought about it too long or too deeply, Heyes started forward, and grasped Doc’s elbow.

“Hey, Doc.” Heyes smiled at Holliday, as a confused look crossed the doctor’s face. “Right on time.”

“Joshua?” Holliday dragged the name out of his addled brain. “Joshua Smith?”

“Yes, of course, Doc,” Heyes saw something cross Holliday’s eyes that he was certain he did not want to discuss right now. “Remember, we were meeting tonight, you, me, Jones here, and our dear Clementine.” He turned with Holliday, pasted on a smile, and faced the maitre ‘d. “Perhaps a nice quiet table, towards the back?” Something of the forceful, charismatic leader showed out of his eyes.

The maitre d’ nodded gratefully, as a short line of diners had started to accumulate at his station. “There is a nice table for four, towards the side door that leads back into the guest rooms.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Clementine took Doc’s other arm, and with Heyes steered Holliday in the correct direction. “I do not believe we have met before, but we can rectify that at the table.”

Once they were all seated with menus placed into their hands, a silence settled on them until the waiter appeared.

“Bring us one of your good bottles of Bordeaux,” Holliday managed to say before a coughing fit forced him to bring out his handkerchief. “In honor of the lovely lady here.”

“My apologies, Doc,” Heyes started. “Clem, as you’ve probably guessed, this here is Doc Holliday.”

“John Henry Holliday, my dear woman.” In spite of the disease racking his body, Holliday still mustered a charming smile.

“Clementine Hale,” she replied, returning his with a sweet smile of her own.

“Clementine Hale Smith,” Heyes reminded her with a tight smile, and a bit of a glare.

“We’ve not been married that long, so you’ll have to forgive me for being a bit flustered, dear,” she returned the glare, and turned back towards Doc. “Especially with such a famous dinner companion.”

The waiter chose that moment to bring the wine, so they were occupied for the next few minutes with the opening of the bottle. Silence had descended on the table again, but glances were exchanged. After a perfunctory tasting, Holliday sent the waiter away, as soon as possible. He started to peruse the menu, but glanced up at Heyes, then Curry, then curiously at Clem.

“Recently married, are you? Then I would think you’d be used to having dinner with famous people.” He glanced down, and then back up at Heyes and then the Kid once more. “I met up with my friend, Wyatt Earp, in Denver recently, and did as you suggested the last time we met, Thaddeus.” There was an emphasis on the name.

“And what was that?” Heyes asked cautiously.

“We discussed the time we all met in Tombstone.” Doc Holliday’s gaze was as clear as it had been that evening. “And that first time you and I played poker, Joshua. Seldom have I met anyone else as skilled.”

“But you beat me in the end,” Heyes reminded him.

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Holliday’s gaze wavered as he took a drink of the wine, but they could tell he was wanting to say more. He looked towards the Kid. “And I’ve never seen anyone pull a gun on me as fast as you did in Ashford, Thaddeus.” Again, he emphasized the name, but then smiled. “And not even try to kill me.”

“I imagine that’s probably something unique,” Heyes said, glancing at his partner, wondering what all had happened in Ashford before he had arrived.

“Yes, you and your friend definitely are a pair not to be forgotten.” Holliday paused and looked down, taking another drink. He continued, almost to himself. “Definitely not what would be expected.” He shook his head and looked up at them both. “Not at all.”

Curry glanced sideways at Heyes, and Clem glanced from the boys back to Holliday.

“Well, I for one would like to just enjoy a nice meal, without having to discuss poker, in particular the big game tomorrow,” Clem stated emphatically.

“You don’t care for poker, my dear?” Doc inquired solicitously, but then started coughing loudly enough that it garnered the attention of other diners. After it subsided, he took a deep drink of the wine, and looked to Heyes. “That is surprising, considering to whom you are married.”

“Yes, well,” Clementine seemed a bit nonplussed for once, but then bravely continued. “He should be very grateful that we are spending part of our honeymoon,” Clem glanced sharply at Heyes and paused to rephrase her statement. “That I am letting him spend part of our honeymoon in the game.”

Holliday looked again at Heyes. “You are entered in the game, too?”

Heyes felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his soul. “And you are as well?” It came out as a question, but Heyes already knew the answer. His gaze shifted toward Curry, who was slowly closing his eyes.

“What do you mean, you’ll have to let him win?” Clem asked Heyes, when they were back in their suite, after dinner had completed.

It had been a fascinating, but somewhat painful experience. The food had been excellent, but Heyes noticed that Holliday ate little. He had ordered prime rib, the same as the boys, but had focused more on the wine, ordering a second, and then a third bottle. Holliday had been nothing but polite, especially with Clementine at the table, even making a great effort to stand, as they left.

He had also obviously made a great effort to let the boys know that he knew exactly who they were, even without saying it.

“I wouldn’t put it past him to turn us in for the reward,” the Kid shook his head.

“He knows who you are?” Clementine exclaimed. “Who you really are?” She looked from the Kid to Heyes. “How?”

“Earp,” they both replied.

“As in Wyatt Earp?” she asked. “He’s supposed to be handsome too.” A small smile crossed her face.

“Clem, you better never plan to get married,” Heyes sighed. “Or your husband is always going to be annoyed, the way you flirt with every man in sight.”

“Now, boys, you know that isn’t true.” She sounded offended, sort of.

The Kid just laughed. “You thought Holliday was handsome?”

“Well,” Clem paused and then continued. “Yes, he’s obviously under the weather, but you can tell he had to be handsome when he was younger.”

“Clem,” Heyes paused himself. “You know he’s dying.”

“Well,” she looked thoughtful. “Maybe he just needs the care of a loving woman.”

“No,” Heyes shook his head. “He’s consumptive.”

“Sometimes consumptives live for years,” Clem replied.

“He already has,” the Kid replied quietly.

“Oh.” She looked thoughtful. “But why does that mean you have to let him win the poker game?”

“Because either he or Earp will turn us in if we don’t.” Heyes sighed.

“That’s basically what Wyatt Earp told us, when we met them in Tombstone,” the Kid supplied.

“If he knew who you were,” the boys could see Clem’s brain working. “Why didn’t he just turn you in then?”

“Because he cared more for preserving Doc’s reputation,” Heyes replied. “I had beat him in poker, so Earp had me lose to him to set it straight.”

“I never understand you men, and your need for a reputation.” Clementine shook her head. “But then you met him again?”

Heyes nodded. “In Ashford.” He looked over to the Kid, who seemed to cringe a bit. “That’s another long story.”

“So why can’t you win now?” Clem persisted.

“I just can’t.” Heyes shook his head. “Even if we weren’t worried about Wyatt Earp.”

“Well, then just back out of the game,” Clementine insisted.

“It’s too late,” Heyes shook his head. “I’ve already given them my buy-in.”

The next night, when the men gathered in the mahogany trimmed poker room, Doc looked even worse than the evening before. Heyes had not thought that possible, but it obviously was.

“You certain you’re up to this, Doc?” Heyes asked, hoping for his own kind of miracle.

“Never backed down from a challenge, Joshua,” Holliday managed a smile, before he almost collapsed in a coughing fit. Heyes helped him to settle in one of the chairs around the table, but then took a seat a few spots down, as the other players started to make their way into the room.

It had been a long night for all. The Kid and Clementine sat in the foyer, with other spectators, waiting for the outcome. Heyes watched Doc grow weaker and weaker as the night progressed. The other players allowed for longer and longer breaks, but it did not seem to help Doc.

It was almost dawn when the last hand was played. Most of the money had made its way to the piles in front of Heyes and Doc Holliday. Heyes had continued raising, until almost all the cash in front of him was in the pot. He had kept out Clementine’s two thousand dollars, but not much more. He saw that Doc had just enough to raise him one more time. Heyes planned to fold on the next round. He realized, all too suddenly, that even with some of the bad luck they had occasionally, they still had been extremely lucky in their lives. He locked eyes with Holliday as he started to count the last of his money. Heyes knew that given a few different decisions, he and the Kid could have been exactly where Doc found himself now. He took a deep breath and waited, ready to throw down his cards.

Holliday looked down at the last pile of money in his hands, and then up, locking gazes again. Several emotions crossed his face. A couple worried Heyes and at least one frightened him. Then Doc looked down at his cards one last time then placed them face down on the table.

“Fold.” An intense spasm caught Holliday and he coughed for a good minute. When he finally had his breath back, he finished off the glass of whiskey in front of him. “Looks like you’ve won, young man. Maybe that pot will bring you better luck than my winnings have brought me.”

Heyes just stared at him, not really understanding what just happened. Before he could confront Holliday, Doc rose, wished everyone a good night, and turned to make his way up the stairs. Heyes tried to follow, but his fellow players crowded around him, to share their congratulations. Before he could free himself, he heard Clem’s voice, clear as a bell, coming in from the foyer.

“He won?” Suddenly Heyes found himself the recipient of a happy hug from Clementine. He freed himself just in time to turn to Curry, whose worried look reflected his own.

“You beat Doc?” the Kid asked.

Heyes shook his head. “I’m not certain.”

It was the next morning when they came down for breakfast that they heard the news. Doc Holliday was gone. He had died during the night.

They attended the funeral, along with most of the town, determinedly avoiding Wyatt Earp. It was during the eulogy at the graveside when they learned that John Henry “Doc” Holliday had been born in 1851, a year after Heyes, and a year before the Kid.

The three didn’t talk much after the funeral. They just boarded the train to take Clementine back to Denver. It was in the dark of the night, with most of the passengers on the train sleeping, that the Kid locked eyes with Heyes. Clem was asleep, resting against Heyes’ shoulder.

“So why did he let you win?”

“Maybe he was worried about more than his reputation.” Heyes looked out into the dark. He muttered something to himself.

“What was that, Heyes?” the Kid asked.

Heyes paused before repeating himself. “There but for the grace of God, go we.”

The Kid looked startled, but just for a moment. Then he nodded.

“Happy I asked you what amnesty was, even as long as it seems to be takin’?”

Heyes let out a breath and nodded. A smile made its way across his face. “With the twenty thousand dollars Doc bequeathed us? Definitely.”

“Eighteen thousand, boys,” came a sleepy voice close to Heyes. “And remember my interest.”

Curry looked out the window for a moment, but then turned back with a gentle smile towards Clementine.

“Clem, how could we ever forget?”

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about the Doc?   
https://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-docholliday/


End file.
